Reid's Recovery
by legaldramafan
Summary: Morgan and Reid are fighting about Reid's drug problem, but is that the real issue? And what happens when Morgan shows up at Reid's one night only to have a half-dressed Ethan answer the door? Hints of Morgan/Reid SLASH; frank discussion of drug use.


**Disclaimer: I am not the creator or owner of Criminal Minds and/or the characters therein. I have no legal rights or financial interest in any of it. The song is "Where's My Sunshine" by East Coast Turnaround.**

Reid's Recovery

"Whatcha listenin' to Pretty Boy?" Morgan inquired, snatching Reid's ear buds from his ears.

_Take another pill just to forget where I'm going and where I've been_

_Cut another line just to ease my mind of these thoughts I've had again_

_Keep walkin' forward but it always seems I end up running back_

_With my boots so deep I can barely see my tracks_

_So where's my sunshine?_

_Where's my sunshine?_

Morgan closed his eyes, listening intently.

_With the lights so bright I can barely squint my eyes_

_At the end of that tunnel I finally realized_

_That's a train barreling down on my life_

_And I don't think I can make it one more night_

_So where's my sunshine?_

_Where's my sunshine?_

_So where's my sunshine?_

_Where's my sunshine?_

_Where's my sunshine?_

Morgan's eyebrows were furrowed as he digested the song.

_Now it blows my mind every time I find another piece that I lost_

_At the end of that day you gotta ask yourself is it really worth the cost_

_I look in the mirror and lines is all I see_

_And the truth is staring back at me_

_So where's my sunshine?_

_Where's my sunshine?_

_So where's my sunshine?_

_Where's my sunshine?_

_Where's my sunshine?_

"Who, uh, who was that Reid?"

"Umm . . . East Coast Turnaround."

"Never heard of them."

"That's not surprising. Ethan sent me the song, and he frequently sends me the music of up-and-coming artists or artists that aren't mainstream." Morgan frowned when he mentioned Ethan's name. He didn't know the musician but he knew he didn't like him.

Reid had been listening to the song on a loop, over and over while he ate his lunch alone in the break room. He identified with the lyrics, felt comforted somehow by the song. He liked the gravely tone of the lead singer's voice.

Sighing, Reid crossed the room to make a fresh pot of coffee. He had been avoiding a confrontation with Morgan regarding his drug use, but he was cornered in the break room and it felt like today was the day. He rinsed the pot, changed the filter, refilled the tower and then paused to inhale the smell of the coffee percolating. He loved the smell of freshly brewed coffee, despite the fact that he required excessive amounts of sugar in order to actually drink it.

"You told him," Morgan says in an accusatory tone as he stands within inches of Reid, although Reid's not 100% certain whether it is a statement or a question.

"What do you mean?" he asks, suddenly finding Morgan's proximity discomforting.

"Don't even. You know what I'm talking about."

"I didn't tell Ethan anything. He knew it when he saw me."

"Bullshit."

"It's not bullshit and you know it. You KNOW that every last one of you should have figured it out. I was losing weight. I looked like I had been run over by a steamroller every single day. I was quiet and irritable. I stopped rolling up my shirt sleeves. I was shaking when we were on cases and I couldn't score when I needed to and I was also scratching my inner elbow. If any of you would have looked in my bag you would have found the tourniquet and needle. The fact that I was using drugs should have been the worst kept secret in the history of the BAU, and it would have been, if any of you had cared enough to pay attention!"

"Whoa! Are you blaming _us_ for this?"

"No! I'm just telling you not to call me a liar when I say that Ethan figured things out on his own, because we both know it was painfully obvious!" Reid sighed. "Do you want to talk about what this is really about?"

"First, you don't get to be pissed about anyone implying or calling you're a liar for a long, LONG time! Second, why didn't you come to me?!"

"Because I couldn't! I couldn't even trust you with a little secret about night terrors! How in the hell was I supposed to tell you that I'm a heroin addict?!"

Morgan was speechless. He didn't have an answer and any answer he came up with would surely be inadequate. Reid walked to the now ready pot of coffee and prepared a cup. He left Morgan standing in the break room, mouth agape.

Reid spent the rest of the afternoon trudging through paperwork. Even though he worked slower than usual he finished about an hour early, turned in his files to Hotch and left.

"Hey, how was work?" Ethan asked when Reid got home.

"Ugh, I finally had it out with Morgan today . . . sort of . . . I have a feeling we only chipped away the tip of the iceberg." He began to rub his temples.

"Look, you're home a little early and dinner isn't ready yet, so why don't you go take a nice hot shower and try to unwind a little." Reid nodded and shuffled off to his bathroom.

Ethan was right. After a long hot shower there was a little less tension in Reid's shoulders and his headache was less intense. He smiled as Ethan presented him with a bowl of jambalaya and some corn bread.

"I think you've been living in Louisiana for too long," he teased.

"You'll be singing a different tune after you try it," Ethan assured.

Reid ate a spoonful of the jambalaya; it was heaven in his mouth and he said so.

"Told you," Ethan replied, smirking.

"Thank you, for everything you've done in the past month. I couldn't have gotten clean without your help."

Ethan smiled. "You're welcome. Now eat your dinner!"

"So, tell me about your fight with Morgan," Ethan prodded as he massaged Reid's shoulders.

"Ugh . . . he's just . . . he's just so frustrating!" Ethan laughed; he couldn't help it. Reid looked over his shoulder and gave him his kitten glower before continuing the story.

By the time Ethan finished massaging Spencer's back, he was half asleep. "Thank you," he murmured as he was tucked into bed. His friend gently stroked his hair out of his face before he tiptoed out of the room.

Sighing, Ethan returned to the kitchen where the dinner dishes awaited him. He somehow managed to slosh dish water all over his shirt while washing the large pot he had used for the jambalaya. He pulled his shirt off and wiped his abdomen before continuing. The dishes were washed and he had just finished wiping down the counter when he heard the knock at the door. Without thinking twice, Ethan answered the door shirtless, his jeans slung low on his hips, his feet bare. He opened the door to find Derek Morgan, or at least that's what he assumed, based upon Spencer's descriptions of his team members.

Derek was shocked when the half-dressed man opened the door. He had been to Spencer's a couple of times; he knew he had the right place. "I'm uh . . . is Reid home?" he finally managed.

Instead of allowing Morgan entrance into the foyer, Ethan stepped out onto the concrete stoop, pulling the door shut behind him. "He is, but he's sleeping," he replied as he removed his cigarettes and lighter from his pocket, "and he needs his sleep so you're not waking him," he concluded, lighting his cigarette, continuing to block Morgan from entering the house.

Morgan stared at the long, lean man before him. He looked roughly Spencer's age, maybe a bit older. His brown hair was pulled back in a low ponytail and he was scruffy looking. He wasn't muscular like Morgan, but he definitely had muscle definition. His fingers were long and thin and he cracked them repeatedly. There was a slight air of arrogance about him and Derek had a pretty good idea who he was. "I'm sorry, but who are you?" he asked.

"Ethan," he replied simply, as if to say 'I'm so important to Reid I'm sure you've heard of me,' or at least that's what Derek thought. He didn't like this man one bit and he certainly didn't like him nonchalantly answering Reid's front door half dressed. "I'm guessing you're Agent Morgan," Ethan stated and he nodded. "I'll let Spence know you stopped by; I don't really know what else to say."

Morgan's eyes narrowed. He wanted to wipe the smirk off the condescending man's face . . . well, he thought Ethan was being condescending at least. Even if he was an academy drop out, Ethan was still a genius and easily interpreted Derek's body language.

"Agent Morgan," Ethan said as Morgan turned to walk away, "just so you know, Spencer and I are only friends."

"Why are you telling me that?" Morgan asked as he turned back around.

"Please don't insult my intelligence; we both know why." Morgan wanted to be pissed but he felt too relieved. "I'm only going to be here a couple more weeks. Will you be ready to step up by then?"

"How long have you been staying with Reid?" questioned Morgan, blatantly ignoring Ethan's own question.

"I've been here a month. Someone had to help him through the withdrawals," he says, informing Morgan of the purpose of his extended visit. "Someone had to watch him, make sure he didn't fall right back off the wagon." Morgan pursed his lips once again feeling guilt slowly crushing him like a boa constrictor – he should have said something, done something, he should be caring for Reid, not Ethan. Spencer talked about Derek so frequently that Ethan easily read him.

"Look, Derek, he came to me because I called him on it and because of my relevant . . . let's call it . . . life experience. He's never wanted you to see him weak. He couldn't cope even with the thought that you might be disgusted with him when you found out. He was afraid he was disappointing you. He fears that you'll never look at him the same again. He doesn't want people to look at him and see an addict first. Your whole team was willing to play along; act like nothing was going on with him and he figured that was how you all wanted it, that you didn't want any involvement in the matter. I'm not saying he was right, and please remember that he formed these opinions while he was still using. I also know that he threw the nightmare thing in your face today, and trust me, that was not nearly as big a factor as he made it out to be." Morgan felt dumbstruck as he watched Ethan finally pause to light another cigarette.

"Fucking hypocrite," he muttered, "smoked for years and now I have to smoke outside. . . . and I know that fucker's been swiping one here and there, which I'm not saying isn't understandable, but I know that he knows that I know . . ."

"Wait, Reid was a smoker?!"

Ethan nodded. "Hey, when you're a teen in an adult world you do things to fit into that world. Besides, he's a fucking drug addict, and that's all cigarettes are – a legal drug addiction." He noticed that Morgan had flinched when he referred to Spencer as a 'fucking drug addict.' "Sorry," he offered, "I don't mince words."

"No shit," answered Derek, shaking his head. "Today, today he said something that caught me a little by surprise. He called himself a heroin addict. I know that Dilaudid and heroin are both derived from morphine, but he's usually so precise with his language . . ."

Sighing, Ethan began cracking his piano-playing fingers once again and decided to spare Spencer the humiliation of having to give the explanation. "Look . . . Dilaudid is hard to score on the street, especially in liquid form. It's also expensive, because of the laws of supply and demand. Heroin actually provides a longer high – if it's good heroin anyhow – and it's much easier to score with a smaller price tag. He only had a few vials when he left that hellhole, so, well, you do the math."

By now Morgan and Ethan were sitting on the stoop side-by-side. "I failed him. I know I did. I could see it but I didn't want to believe it. I couldn't protect him from that psychopath and I wouldn't protect him from himself. Some friend I am, and now I'm mad because he turned to you for help, not me. I sound like a self-absorbed asshole!"

"You're not a self-absorbed asshole." Ethan and Derek whipped around to see Spencer standing in the doorway. Neither had heard the door open. He was still shirtless and Derek tried not to shudder when he saw the track marks covering his inner arm. Spencer motioned for Ethan to hand over his cigarette and took a few drags. "C'mon Morgan. We both know we need to talk." He nodded and stood. "Ethan, we'll be in my bedroom – that way you aren't exiled from the house." He also nodded, but remained seated. Morgan followed Reid into his apartment and his bedroom.

"Sorry," Reid began, "but it's getting late and I didn't want to ostensibly kick Ethan out so that we could speak privately. Have a seat," he said, gesturing to the bed, "just take your shoes off please." He lay on his back staring at the ceiling and Morgan decided to do the same, both seemingly content to watch the ceiling fan make lazy circles and not say anything at all.

Morgan finally broke the silence. "I'm sorry you felt you couldn't come to me, and I'm sorry that I made this about me, because it's not. It shouldn't matter who you turned to for help; all that should matter is that you got help."

A tear slid down Reid's face. "I'm sorry for what I said today. It was purposefully hurtful and I'm sorry for that. And you're not a self-absorbed asshole. And I don't expect you to protect me every minute of every day. I know you feel like you need to, but you don't, it's not your responsibility to protect me from others or from myself, especially not myself. And I . . . I just didn't want to disappoint you, Morgan. I was weak and I was a coward and I didn't want you to see me that way."

"I hate to tell you Pretty Boy, but it is my responsibility to protect you, and I plan on doing it until the day I die and I'm sorry, but I will be angry with myself every time I fail you."

"Morgan that doesn't even make sense."

"Of course it does; you protect the ones you love, you protect what's yours." There was another pause. Morgan was afraid to ask the question weighing on my mind. "That night . . . were . . . were you . . ."

Reid sat up facing away from Morgan. This was the conversation he had been waiting for. He hung his head in shame and tears flowed freely down his cheeks. "I wasn't high, but I was still using."

"Did I . . . Did it . . ." Morgan couldn't ask his questions because he was fighting to hold back his own tears.

Reid sighed and forced himself over to Morgan's side of the bed. He rubbed his hand in soothing circles over his back. "Derek, look at me." He reluctantly removed his face from the pillow in which it was buried. "Derek, you did not take advantage of me. I was using, but I wasn't high. You understand the difference right?"

Morgan nodded. "Did it . . . did it mean anything to you, or . . ." he couldn't finish the thought aloud. Even considering that the night they slept together meant nothing to Reid, that it only happened because he was on drugs, was too much to bear. He couldn't suggest it out loud.

"Hey, you listen to me. That night meant everything to me. YOU mean everything to me. I'm sorry if our first time will always be tainted by the fact that I was using when it happened, that part alone I wish I could change. But I've wanted you since the first time I saw you; I've loved you since the first time I met you. I'll spend the rest of my life proving it to you if you let me."

They embraced. "I'm so sorry I let you down Spencer. I'm so, so sorry."

"Shhh," Reid whispered as Morgan began to cry, "you didn't let me down. I promise you, you didn't let me down. And I'm sorry that I put you through hell. Don't say I didn't or that it's okay, because it's not. I need you to let me apologize – it's one of the most important steps to successful sobriety. I'm sorry that I was weak and that I used Dilaudid and heroin. I'm sorry that I worried you, and that I lied to you. I'm sorry that I was emotionally distant and pushed you away. I'm sorry for taking out my anger and aggression on you, for fighting with you to distract you from the real problem. I'm sorry that the fact that I love you has not been reflected by my actions. I'm sorry that I jeopardized my life. I'm sorry that I risked your life by showing up to work high and shooting up at work. I'm sorry that I hurt you emotionally. I love you more than you know Derek and I'm just so sorry."

"Can I at least say that I accept your apology and that I'm so, so proud of you for being clean for a whole month?"

"Yes, and thank you."

Morgan leaned in and kissed Reid on the mouth. "You have no idea how much I've missed you, Pretty Boy."

"I've missed you too."

"Spencer . . . can I sleep here tonight? I really do mean sleep. I just want to hold you."

Reid smiled and nodded. "I'm going to go make sure Ethan locked up, I'll be right back," he said, standing and exiting the room.


End file.
